


Sleepover

by junglec0re



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/F, Firsts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Series of firsts, Short Chapters, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:17:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junglec0re/pseuds/junglec0re
Summary: In which Yoobin and Yoohyeon experience a series of firsts, and they all happen at a sleepover.





	1. First Lost Tooth

If anyone asks, it was Yoobins idea. Yoohyeon had no part of it.

It’s dark, well past both of their bedtimes, and they’re huddled together in the small closet under the stairs. Yoohyeon snuggles her face into Yoobin’s shoulder blades to keep from inhaling more dust. It was tickling her nose, and the last thing she wanted was to sneeze too loudly and wake Yoobin’s parents up. She promised her mom she’d be a good girl at her first sleepover, and she didn’t want to disappoint her.

But she also didn’t want Yoobin to think she wasn’t fun enough to play with anymore. In the four short months that she’s known her, the other five year old has become Yoohyeon’s best friend, even more her stuffed dog Mr. Smiley. Yoobin didn’t care that her clothes were old and some of them had holes in them like the other kids did. Yoobin didn’t care that she brought Mr. Smiley with her to school, and sneer at her for being too old for stuffed animals. Yoobin made her feel safe.

Carefully, Yoohyeon snakes her arms around Yoobin’s waste, waiting for the okay from the other girl to say it was okay. It takes about five more minutes, but when she finally thinks the coast is clear, Yoobin gives the okay and slowly opens the door.

Yoohyeon follows behind her on padded slipper socks. Yoobin herself is barefoot, claiming the cold of the hardwood floor doesn’t bother her.

They cross through the living room, which is brightly illuminated by the pink and blue lights on the Christmas tree standing tall in far corner, and into the kitchen where their target awaits, sitting on the counter on a plate with a decorative glass lid covering it.

Yoohyeon stands off to the side as she watches Yoobin pull a chair from under the kitchen table, and lines it up with the counter. She climbs up by placing her knees on the seat first and pushing herself up, then stands on her feet, meticulously lifting the glass lid off the plate.

Yoohyeon’s little heart is pumping with excitement.

Yoobin grabs two white chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies with her tiny hands, one for each of them. She hands one to Yoohyeon with a mischievous giggle.

“On the count of three we’re both gonna take a bite okay?” Yoobin says and brings the cookie to her mouth.

“One.”

Yoohyeon positions the cookie to her mouth.

“Two.”

They both open their mouth.

“Three.”

They both take a bite.

And Yoobin screams, loud and shrill, at the top of her little lungs.

Yoohyeon jumps and promptly drops her cookie. It lays in two broken pieces forgotten on the floor as she hurries over to the chair to Yoobin, who’s now crying along with her screaming.

“Shhhh! You gotta be quiet or we’re gonna get in trouble,” she tries to calm her friend down but Yoobin’s seemingly inconsolable. It’s only when she tries to move Yoobins hands away from her mouth that Yoohyeon realizes there’s blood on them. She gasps. Yoobin cries harder.

The kitchen light being flicked on makes them both jump. Yoobin, feebly, tries to hide the cookie behind her back, but the evidence still exists in Yoohyeon’s broken cookie that’s still laying on the floor.

“What is going on in here?” Mrs. Lee asks, first forcefully, and then reigns herself in when she sees the blood on her hands. Her eyes relax and the wrinkles around them soften, as does her mouth. She promptly walks over to them, worry evident in her step, and leans down when she gets to them. Belatedly, Yoohyeon moves out of the way, tears now streaming down her own face partly out of worry for her friend and partly because she didn’t want to get in trouble. It was her first sleepover! And now she probably won’t be allowed over again. She’s allowed to be sad about it.

Gently, Mrs. Lee pries her daughters mouth open, revealing a vacant spot in her mouth where a tooth was before, but now it is not.

Mrs. Lee chuckles to herself. “Looks like that tooth that’s been bothering you finally came out, huh Panda?” she asks, and then looks to the hardwood floor in search of the tooth that’s resting idly by the front left leg of the chair. Carefully, she picks it up. There’s still yucky gum tendrils attached to it, and Yoohyeon makes a face.

“You remember what I said to do when this falls out, right Panda?”

Yoobin momentarily forgets about her pain and nods eagerly.

“Mhmm! I keep it under my pillow as I sleep and then the tooth fairy comes and gives me money!”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Lee responds, “but I don’t know if you deserve money. You’ve been a bad girl, Panda. You know I said no cookies until tomorrow.”

Yoobin’s face falls, downtrodden. “I know, and I’m _really_ sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise,” she pleads, jutting her bottom lip out. Mrs. Lee, despite the hardness of her appearance, melts.

“Well, I guess I can have a talk with the tooth fairy tonight and she can make an exception.”

“Yes! Thank you, mommy! You’re the best!” Yoobin exclaims, hopping down from the chair and hugging her mother’s legs.

Yoohyeon watches the exchange from where she’s standing off to the side and can’t help but wonder how her own mom would have reacted. She wasn’t a mean woman, but she was strict when it came to following the rules, especially rules about food. From what she could understand, they didn’t have a lot of money. Not since daddy lost his job and they had to move, and then left in the middle of the night with not even a goodbye note or a return address. She couldn’t imagine her mom being this easy going about sneaking a cookie. The image just didn’t make sense.

Mrs. Lee takes them to the bathroom to wash out Yoobin’s mouth and then back to Yoobin’s room. Thankfully, as Mrs. Lee assured her when she started crying in the bathroom, Yoohyeon isn’t banned from coming over again. She and Yoobin are lying in the latter’s bed, facing each other as her mom turned off the lights. Yoobin smiles at her in the dark, a gap where her front tooth should be and Yoohyeon reciprocates it, thinking she and Yoobin will be friends for a long time.


	2. First Graduation

Yoohyeon stares at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair has been pulled into pigtails, curtesy of Mrs. Lee. She looks down, examining her new dress. It was pink, with white flowers and lines lining the bottom of the skirt, and shiny black shoes. It was more expensive than what she usually wore, but her mom said that it was a special occasion. “It’s not every day you graduate elementary school,” she said. She smiled in her face then and before she dropped her off at Yoobin’s last night, but the haggardness of her appearance made the moment bittersweet.

Still, she pretended she hadn’t seen her mom filing through the bills she had to pay with her head in her hands a few nights prior. She didn’t want to add to her stress more than she already was.

“You look pretty.”

Yoohyeon jumps, turning around with her hand on her chest. Yoobin’s standing right in front of her, long hair curled and pulled back off her face with a butterfly clip. Her dress is baby blue with white lace lining the top and billowing out at the bottom.

“Thanks,” Yoohyeon replies, cheeks hot and pink. “You look pretty, too.”

Yoobin makes a face.

“What? You don’t think so?”

“It’s not that,” Yoobin corrects, examining the dress with thinly veiled distaste, “I just wish I didn’t have to wear this dress. I’d much rather be wearing my jeans, ya know?”

“Eesh, would it kill you to enjoy dressing up for once?” Yoohyeon teases.

“Hey, I don’t mind dressing up,” Yoobin insists. And then, a bit softer, “Just don’t wanna dress up like this.”

Yoohyeon pouts at her best friend. She didn’t have a problem with the way Yoobin normally dressed, not at all. The problem was that her mom let her pick out her own clothes, which was unthinkable to someone like Yoohyeon, but Yoobin and she lived different lives. How nice and spacious her friend’s house is still caught her off guard sometimes. And of course, she still had both parents in her life. And with those things came certain privileges, like picking out your own clothes, and Yoobin sometimes had a habit of picking her clothes from the boy’s section.

However, today her mom insisted she wear something nicer, something “more fit for an elementary school graduation” as she put it. Yoohyeon can tell Yoobin’s parents spent a lot of money on it based on the softness of the material, and she shoves down the jealousy that occasionally bubbles up inside her when she’s reminded of how much she doesn’t have.

Still, she can’t stop herself from thinking Yoobin should be a little more grateful.

“Yeah, I know,” she says instead with a smile.

Yoobin holds out her hand for Yoohyeon to take and leads them out of her room into the living room where Mrs. Lee is waiting to usher them into the car.

The ceremony is a relatively short and small affair that ends with an ice cream party on the playground curtesy of their teachers and the principal. Yoohyeon avoids chocolate syrup because her mom was adamant on her keeping her dress as clean as possible.

Her mom couldn’t stay after the ceremony, so she’s currently sat between Mr. and Mrs. Lee and Yoobin sat to her left, shoveling strawberry ice cream with sprinkles into her mouth.

“So, girls, how does it feel to be middle schoolers?” Mr. Lee asks.

“It feels _awesome!_” yells Yoobin.

“Panda, please keep your voice down.”

Yoobin pouts, and beside her, Yoohyeon giggles. “I’m kind of nervous,” Yoohyeon answers honestly.

Mrs. Lee casts her a sympathetic look. “It’s okay to be nervous,” she says. “Growing up is scary sometimes. Your body is changing, people expect you to be more responsible, your feelings are all over the place. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“Don’t forget boys,” Mr. Lee interjects.

Yoobin makes a noise that sounds like objection. “Boys are gross,” she says around a mouthful of ice cream.

“You say that now,” Mr. Lee guffaws, pinching his daughter’s cheeks until she playfully bats his hand away. “Just wait, in a couple years you’ll be coming to us for advice about that cute boy in your history class.”

Yoobin makes another face but doesn’t respond. The conversation drops, and they all continue eating their ice cream in peace until they leave.

And when Yoohyeon catches Yoobin staring at some of the girls in their class, she thinks maybe the other girl is jealous for some reason. She doesn't say anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha I know I rise and fall from the dead too often but follow me on twitter if you want I talk more often there xd:
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/home)


	3. First Fight

It starts with a question.

Yoohyeon and Yoobin are in the latter’s room, Yoobin on the bed and Yoohyeon on the floor and both with their weekend homework on the floor. They hadn’t ended up in most of the same classes in middle school due to Yoohyeon put in the more advanced due to her exceptional reading level, but somehow, they both had gotten assigned homework over the weekend.

Yoohyeon thoughtfully taps her pencil against her paper, trying to figure out how to organize the information for the outline of her book report, when Yoobin asks, “So, what’s your homework?”

Yoohyeon looks up, pencil now resting gently against her lips. “It’s a partner project. We have to write a book report and then give a presentation in front of the class. I’m writing the book report.”

“Who are you working with?”

“Gahyeon.”

Yoobin’s shoulders slump. “Oh,” she says, a bit quieter.

That was another unfortunate byproduct of not being in the same class. They each had other friends now, and though Gahyeon never said anything outright, Yoohyeon knew how Yoobin and Gahyeon didn’t get along. She would scrunch her nose and leave whenever Yoobin would come around on her skateboard, and when Yoobin would go on and on about One Piece and video games, Gahyeon excused herself and left. The air was always thick afterwards.

Yoohyeon sighs. “I know you don’t like her-“

“I don’t have a problem with her. It’s her who doesn’t like me.”

“Regardless,” Yoohyeon continues, “could you at least try to be nice.”

“I try all the time!” Yoobin insists. “But she never responds to me. She just doesn’t like me, Yoohyeon. No matter what I do.”

“Well, maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

Yoobin widens her eyes at her. “Not _trying _hard enough?”

“Well, yeah,” Yoohyeon shrugs innocently. “You’re always talking about boy stuff but maybe if you tried acting more like a girl then-“

“Act like a girl?” Yoobin nearly shouts, hopping off the bed to stand above the other girl. “And tell me, Yoohyeon what does a girl act like?”

Yoobin stares down at her with her little hands balled into fists. Yoohyeon slowly stands, so to not feel so intimidated but even with the few inches she has over the other girl, she still feels like Yoobin is towering over her.

“I-“

“There isn’t one way to “act like a girl” Yoohyeon. I can still be a girl and like wrestling. I can still be a girl and prefer jeans over skirts. I can still be a girl. I’m still a girl, I’m still..”

Tears form at the water lid of Yoobin’s eyes. Her arms tremble as she wraps her arms around herself. Yoohyeon is stuck watching her friend break down not knowing what to do.

“I’m different,” Yoobin says through the tears on her cheeks. “I know that. I don’t know why, but I am. B-but, but that shouldn’t be a bad thing! I’m still normal!”

“I’m sorry,” Yoohyeon says, finally snapping out of her stupor and taking a step closer. “It isn’t. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Then why are you making me feel like it is?”

Yoohyeon can only blink.

“Yooh. Hyeonie. You’re my best friend. I-“ Yoobin says. Cuts herself off. And then, a whisper. “You shouldn’t be making me feel like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoohyeon helplessly says again. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t normal.”

“But your still friends with Gahyeon,” Yoobin whispers again, this time more sinister. “And she’s _mean_ to me. And you let her be.”

There’s a rumbling outside, and the sky flashes. Rain drops pelt softly against the window pane, and Yoohyeon slowly lifts her hand to brush against Yoobin’s cheek, but the other girl slaps it away.

“Please go home,” Yoobin says, wrapping her arms around herself once more. “I don’t want you to sleep over tonight anymore.”

Yoohyeon’s little heart breaks.

“But I-“

“Please!” Yoobin enforces turns away.

And Yoobin, when she decides on something, is not the girl to change her mind again. So, sad and defeated, Yoohyeon slowly gathers up her notebooks and papers and puts them in her backpack. She throws it on her back and walks to the door, throws one last look at Yoobin – who still hasn’t turned around – and walks out the door.

Mrs. Lee is downstairs at the kitchen table, looking through papers scattered in front of her and sipping on a mug of coffee when Yoohyeon walks up. She looks up, sees the tears on Yoohyeon’s cheeks and is out of her chair and by her side in seconds.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she asks urgently, scanning the kitchen for something to wipe her tears with and settles on a paper towel. Yoohyeon waits until she’s been cleaned up to answer.

“We had a fight,” she says timidly. “I don’t think Yoobin wants to be my friend anymore.”

Mrs. Lee fixes her a sympathetic look. “Oh honey,” she starts, carding her fingers through the little girl’s hair, “friends fight you know. It’s perfectly normal.”

Yoohyeon shakes her head. “I don’t know. We had arguments but this one felt different. Almost like she wasn’t mad at me but like…” Yoohyeon bites her lip, frustratingly grappling for the right words, “mad at herself.”

The older woman goes tight lipped and rubs a comforting hand down her back. “Well, maybe it’s just intuition speaking but she can’t possibly stay mad at you – or herself – forever. Would you like me to talk to her?”

“No,” Yoohyeon objects, curling in on herself once more. “I’d just like to go home, if that’s okay.”

Mrs. Lee nods and doesn’t say anything further, picks her car keys off the living room coffee table, and silently drives Yoohyeon home.

A week from then, Yoobin finds Yoohyeon on the playground. The taller girl is playing alone on swings, kicking at the mulch underneath the set. Yoobin stands off silently, seemingly trying to find the right words to speak before simply settling on “Where’s Gahyeon?”

Yoohyeon shrugs.

“You don’t know?”

“I told her I couldn’t be friends with her if she was going to be mean to my other friends. And she got mad, so…” Yoohyeon trails off, shrugs again, and briefly goes back to kicking the mulch before raising her head again. “We are still friends, right?”

Yoobin smiles at her, eyes shining in relief. “Yeah, we’re still friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look at me not abandoning something *pats self on back*


	4. First Haircut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's getting a bit angsty in here y'all

“I want it all gone.”

Yoobin is rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, frantically searching for what she’s looking for but unable to find it. Yoohyeon’s standing off to the side, watching as her best friend bursts out of the bathroom like a mad woman and to the stairs, long ponytail bouncing around her shoulders as she stomps her way down.

“Are you sure? I mean, not that I would ever judge you but that’s a lot to take off,” Yoohyeon says, following Yoobin to the lower level of her house. Yoobin’s digging through the drawers on the television stand now, filing through papers until finding what she’s looking for with an “aha!”

She pulls out the pair of hair scissors and holds them up to the light as if she were wielding a sword, glimmering silver reflecting prettily.

“And to answer your question,” she says, turning to Yoohyeon with a smirk, “yes, I’m sure. I don’t wanna finish freshman year, or frankly the rest of high school, not feeling like myself.”

Yoobin grabs at the other girl’s hand and leads her back upstairs to her room. She pulls out her desk chair to the middle of the room when they finally get there, and hands the scissors to Yoohyeon who stares at them like they burned her.

“W-why…you want _me_ to do it?” she asks incredulously.

“There’s no one I trust more,” Yoobin replies, so deathly serious it leaves Yoohyeon momentarily speechless. For some reason, she gets a weird feeling that she’s talking about more than just her hair.

But before she could ask, Yoobin brings her back to reality. “So, are you gonna do it or not?”

Yoohyeon looks down at the scissors in her hands, and back up at Yoobin. Yoohyeon swallows. This wasn’t like her. She was always taught to measure her choices carefully, whereas Yoobin hardly ever did, and perhaps that was another disparity caused by their upbringings. Yoobin was spontaneous because she never had to worry about the consequences in a way that Yoohyeon admired but also scared her sometimes, whereas Yoohyeon grew up always having to count pennies, always having to way the pros and cons of her choices to ensure the payoff would be more than her losses.

Yoohyeon and her mom were a bit more financially secure now thanks to an office job her mom landed a couple years ago, but she still couldn’t shake the need to stop and think, and always think. But then again, maybe this could be the start of something good. Maybe she could start being spontaneous.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll do it.”

Yoobin smiles and sits down in her chair. “I want it cut about an inch below the hair tie,” she says. Yoohyeon follows suit, placing the scissors at where her hair is tied up at the nape of her neck, cutting the hair off in one swift snip.

With nothing much left to hold, the hair tie falls to the ground, and Yoobin’s black hair fans out around her face and just above her shoulders.

From behind, Yoohyeon sees Yoobin reach up and run her fingers through it. She stands up and goes to the bathroom. Yoohyeon follows closely behind her, watching the other girl examine her reflection with piqued interest.

And then she laughs. She puts a hand over her mouth and blushes, but it doesn’t stop other bubbles of laughter from rising in her throat. She looks to Yoohyeon and laughs some more, and soon Yoohyeon is laughing with her, the other girl’s giggles contagious and infectious.

Through her laughter, Yoohyeon thinks she’s never seen Yoobin happier.

The first day back from winter break is when Yoohyeon hears that word for the first time.

They’re headed to their gym class, located on the other side of campus in a separate building. The winter chill is biting, so both girls are in hoodies, Yoohyeon’s being a pale blue and Yoobin’s pitch black. The other girl also has a snapback on her head worn backwards, and is on her skateboard, coasting idly by Yoohyeon’s side, occasionally putting her foot down to the pavement for a low power kick-push.

“I really don’t feel like gym class today,” Yoohyeon groans, adjusting her backpack.

“But your so good at volleyball,” Yoobin responds.

“I’m only good because I’m tall,” Yoohyeon says, which isn’t a total lie. At 175cm, Yoohyeon is the third tallest girl in their grade.

“Your height didn’t give you that hand-eye coordination.”

“Well that’s just from playing overwatch all the time.”

“Sure- oof!”

The sudden sound of Yoobin tripping snaps Yoohyeon’s head around. The other girl is fine and still on her feet, thankfully, but her board has been capsized, lying between her and another boy Yoohyeon recognizes from her biology class.

“I’m so sorry,” Yoobin apologizes, and promptly picks up her skateboard. The boy looks her over once, and scoffs as he turns to walk away, but not before mumbling under his breath.

“What a dyke.”

Yoobin instantly freezes.

Yoohyeon turns to her friend, who’s looking wide eyed at the boy as he walks away. She turns to Yoohyeon with the same expression, mouth pinched as she searches Yoohyeon’s face. For what, she doesn’t know.

“What did he call you?” Yoohyeon finally asks, and Yoobin seems to deflate completely.

“Nothing. It’s nothing, let’s just go.” Yoobin kicks her board down, hops on, and skates away. Confused, Yoohyeon follows her, and makes a mental note to look it up when she gets home, but by the time she gets there, she’s forgotten about it.


End file.
